


Stained From Previous Days

by mrfreddyjones



Series: Dark Blue [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Abuse, Gen, PTSD, Spoilers for S02E03, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:56:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrfreddyjones/pseuds/mrfreddyjones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lisa’s safe” Barry said, then, and Len’s whole body relaxed. He could breathe again, his chest was burning with the need to scream, to cry. To destroy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stained From Previous Days

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for canon character death, abuse, PTSD.  
> Title from the song Dark Blue by No Doubt  
> This is the first in a series of Coldflash stories I'm writing, all set in the same universe.

The eldest Snart stepped forward, finger hovering over the detonator almost carelessly. Len had his gun trained on Barry – he wasn’t _Cold,_ and the kid wasn’t _The Flash_ , not now. Now they were Len and Barry, both on the same side. Both wanting what was best for Lisa. “Shoot him, son”

Len’s eyes moved from the speedster to his father, finger barely touching the trigger. His hand was shaking, slightly, and he honestly couldn’t tell if it was from being around his father, or from the idea that he would be made to shoot the first – the _only_ person who ever tried to help him and his sister. Who ever tried to save them from this- This _thing_.

Lewis sensed his son hesitation. “Kill him or you’ll never see your sister alive”

Seconds stretched on like hours, days even. Silence weighed on them, but the sound of his heart thundering on his ears kept Len shielded from it – the sound of his heart racing, drumbeat out of rhythm, and he _hated_ it. He hated the way his entire body rebelled against him, against time – against everything he’d ever known he could count on – at the presence of that man. He hated feeling so small, so vulnerable, so weak. His finger twitched, ready to press down on the trigger, the bitter realization that, after everything, this was how it was going to end.

“Lisa’s safe” Barry said, then, and Len’s whole body relaxed. He could breathe again, his chest was burning with the need to scream, to cry. To destroy.

Lewis’ face fell as realization dawned upon him, and as he turned around to look at his son, a flare of white filled the room.

From Len’s perspective, everything had changed. In that split second, in the time it’d taken his father to turn around, the room had morphed into a safe house, one of the many he’d been at growing up. The detonator on Lewis’ hand had turned into a bottle. The Flash was gone, and the man – no, not a _man_. The _beast_ in front of him was once again bigger and stronger. And though it only lasted for a second, for Len it seemed like years of his life were unraveling right in front of his eyes. His father’s voice was echoing in the room: _You little shit! Can’t you do anything right?_ The bottle crashed against the wall behind him. _Snarts don’t make mistakes! I’m going to make sure you remember that-_ Lewis reached for his belt, and Len’s finger pressed down on the trigger. The oldest man fell to his knees, and suddenly they were back at the job.

“You’re working with _The Flash_?” Lewis voice was strained, a small mountain of ice on his chest. “I thought- you hated him”

The room was spinning. Len felt lightheaded, like he could cry or pass out. “Not as much as I-” the words caught in his throat. He was shaking. “Hate _you_.”

Lewis’ body fell to the ground, the ice crashing loudly, and Len kneeled down next to his father, eyes fixed on the damage he’d made. The ice had gone through the old man, perforated his chest. There was no coming back from that. Len’s father was dead, and he couldn’t help but think _finally_ , couldn’t help the breath he’d let out, as if he’d been holding it his entire life. It didn’t even register with him that he’d been the one to pull the trigger until Barry’s voice cut through the silence.

“Lisa was safe,” the speedster said, and he sounded so much someone who didn’t wake up every night to nightmares about his father, like someone who didn’t  know just how fucked up life could be, that Len wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh and hug Barry Allen and keep him from ever finding out just how ugly the world really was. “Why did you do that?”

“He broke my sister’s heart,” Len replied, and it wasn’t a lie, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. There was so much pain in his voice, in his eyes, that he knew for sure Allen could see it – but he prayed to whatever God was there that he wouldn’t push it. “Only fair I break his”

 

* * *

 

Detective West was the first cop to make it to the scene. Len still hadn’t moved from where he was kneeling over his father’s body – not touching, just looking. He hadn’t moved, or said anything else, in however long it’d taken for the cops to arrive. Probably minutes.

“What happened?” Len heard the detective ask, and if he’d had his head clear then he would’ve noticed his voice – how the detective sounded heartbroken for Len. Like he knew. _Of course he knew_.

“He- He went at Cold, he-” Barry was fumbling with his words, trying to paint a picture of self-defense. Under other circumstances, Len would’ve wondered why – he might’ve had even taken it.

“I killed him,” he said, and it seemed like someone else had. The entire thing felt like he was standing outside of himself, watching it all on a TV. “I aimed my gun at him and I pressed the trigger.”

Detective West didn’t ask why. The Flash was protesting in the background, saying something about reflex, and shock, and Len thought he even heard the speedster say they thought Lewis was about to kill Lisa.

“Barry,” he said, and that made Allen stop. “I killed him because I _wanted_ to.” He turned to detective West, and there was a somber understanding on the man’s eyes. “He’s not going to hurt _anyone_ anymore.”


End file.
